


Here Comes The Encore!

by milesawayfromthevoid



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Ben Hargreeves Needs A Hug, Canon Non-Binary Character, Diego Hargreeves Needs a Break, Gen, I'm mad that this fandom is such that I GOTTA tag that, Klaus Hargreeves Needs Help, No Incest, Post-Danger Days, Protective Klaus Hargreeves, Punk Rock Ben Hargreeves, Theft, Trans Klaus Hargreeves, fight me assholes :), messy break-ups, shitty exes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:40:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22895029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milesawayfromthevoid/pseuds/milesawayfromthevoid
Summary: Klaus is someone who tends to forgive and forget -- and he tries so hard with the latter -- one way or another. He's had plenty of messy break-ups that he's moved past easily.This is not one of those times.AKA: Klaus Is Canada's Sexiest Burglar
Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 39





	Here Comes The Encore!

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I've mentioned this before, but Klaus committing B&E & Theft Under 5000$ out of Spite is my absolute jam. Also sibling bonding moments. Working with Ontario law bc TUA clearly takes place in Toronto, they don't even bother hiding it. I see that bus, I'm claiming these siblings as Canadian.
> 
> Legally speaking, I have to say that I don't endorse crime. Legally speaking.

Klaus was kicked out of his boyfriend's apartment.

It was for the best, really. Guy gave him the heebie-jeebies from day one. Just a touch too much hero-worship, and he brought up Ben _way_ more than any potential beau ought to. Klaus always figured he had a thing for emotionally compromised guys, but damn, it took a lot more than wine-ing and dining for anyone to catch a glimpse of Klaus’ damage. Besides, kinda awkward to keep mentioning that it must’ve been _awful, how sad for you_ that his brother died when Ben was standing _right there_. On one occasion, the latter had rolled his eyes so much that Klaus broke into near-hysterical giggles. 

Still, he was sober for the first time in a long time during those four months. He even briefly landed a job working stock at a grocery store for a bit. He and Ben celebrated by buying _Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys_. For the first time, Klaus listened to MCR with Ben and actually really got into it. And unpopular opinion -- that Ben would flay him for this if he ever found out -- but he was glad they broke up. It led to their best music.

His boyfriend had caught him and Ben — or just him, given his boyfriend’s distinct lack of shitty powers — in the middle of jamming out to _Summertime_. His expression was a tight kind of fond, and Klaus had to squash the uncomfortable sense of being caught by grabbing his hands and pulling him in to dance. 

For a few months, he got over the strange feeling that he was being watched for entertainment by his own boyfriend and just enjoyed that he was finally having a normal life. The ghosts bothered him, for sure, but Diego and Allison had helpfully pointed him in the direction of an NA group, even if they didn’t understand the cause. He was talking to them again, even if it was still a little awkward and plenty stilted. For the first time in a while, he felt...secure. It was good. He liked the feeling.

Then his boyfriend got tired of the hero worship thing and the fights started. The grocery store he worked at wouldn’t give him a set schedule, and for three weeks straight he wouldn’t end sooner than nine at night. But as bad as things were, he was still afloat. He still made his NA meetings, having quartered off a couple of hours on Wednesday where neither his boyfriend or his job couldn’t reach him. 

Then Vanya’s book dropped onto his life like a bomb, as it did with all of his siblings. Like he hoped it _did_ for his dad, even though he didn’t hear much from him. Klaus didn’t blame her. Or, okay, he _did_ : he used to blame her with everything he had for writing out every bit of dirty laundry the family had. He, very briefly, even hated her, for writing him like he was wasting his potential. For writing, for the entire world to see, how he would stare off or tiptoe into Ben’s room to talk and cry when shit got really rough. Reading her words in an NA meeting was like having his dad over his shoulder again. He remembers the distinct feeling of his stomach falling away at the thought of what his dad would say — would _do — _ if he saw him in NA. Worse still, even if he thought it wasn’t possible before, everyone who read the book was hovering over his shoulder, seeing his lowest lows. 

Years of wisdom had softened the blow, had gently coaxed him into looking at Vanya’s perspective. He finally tried to see himself through her eyes and conceded that there was some truth to her writing, even if it hurt him. 

That wisdom didn’t change what happened between him and Derek, though.

At first, he was incredibly supportive, in a way that wasn’t really all that great at all. He would harp on and on about how Vanya just didn’t _understand_ him, and how he deserved better than those nasty words. He, ironically, said some incredibly nasty shit about Vanya, spilling out words that Klaus wouldn’t even use on his worst enemy, much less his sweet little sister. Even through his own anger at her, he still found himself defending her. He’d stay up late with an extra glass of whatever booze was closest, trying to push all his feelings down, where they couldn’t keep him up at night. He felt like he was cheating, with the whole drinking thing, but the guilt was never something that really bothered him. Kinda hard to, when the choice was either inebriation or wailing undead since childhood. 

But even with all that, the whole feelings thing was all too overwhelming, especially because Klaus wasn’t, deep down, entirely sure that he didn’t deserve that exposé. None of it was lies, after all, just uncomfortable truths. Worse, he wasn’t sure whether Derek believed it either, at the time. Oh, he’d get his answer soon enough, but at that point, he wondered whether Derek just wanted to keep him as the poor _ingénu_ that he could mold into something better. He was Christine, and Derek was Erik but with better cheekbones. _Phantom of the Opera_ seemed a fun comparison, as his life kept trying to make itself about death and drama. 

Something beyond ghosts made him relapse and walk down those familiar alleys again. He’d shown up high to work and was very politely told to return his uniform and not bother showing up on Monday. That only _begun_ his troubles with Derek. 

The book was always on their minds, and in fights, it was always on their tongues. Klaus hated that he read it and would tell him as much; Derek pointed out every shitty thing Klaus had ever done, then tried to link it to his current behaviour. It was exhausting. 

One night, the shouting match turned into a screaming match, and Klaus went out for a pack of cigs and a bit of air to calm himself down. Derek told him that if he walked away then, he wasn’t welcome back. He figured it was an idle threat, but halfway down the street, he remembered that he left his keys in the jar. 

By the time he got back, his boyfriend refused to let him in. 

So he stumbled into a familiar alley, talked to some old friends, and scored himself something to keep the night’s chill at bay. When he finally came to, Ben was hovering over him. He was sitting on a crate, arms folded, eyes staring just beyond Klaus. 

“He left your stuff in a box outside,” he said. 

“Well, good morning to you too,” Klaus grouched. 

“Good morning. It’s six in the evening, Klaus,” Ben frowned. Klaus groaned. He knew Ben was about to launch himself into a lecture, but he was really not in the mood. 

“No, no, no, no,” Klaus pushed his face in his hands. The building he was squatting in had such hard floors. “No, please, not now. Save it for when I’m not sleeping with rats, okay?” 

Ben sighed. It was as good a concession as he’d give. 

* * *

The got the box while his ex was at work. All of Klaus’ possessions, including his wallet that he’d left behind. No keys, though. Thankfully, the book was also absent. It made sense, Derek was exponentially more attached to it than Klaus was, but it was still a relief to not see it pop up in his box. 

He’d had enough cash to get himself a motel room for a few days. Sullenly, he went through his things on the bed, remorseful that it wasn’t much. 

“Look at it this way,” Ben said. “You still have NA. You could still get clean, find someplace new to work.” He paused. “If you were to bring that up to dad—”

Klaus dropped the shirt he’d been folding with a groan. “Do _not_ finish that sentence,” Klaus begged. 

“Come on, if you told him that you were getting clean, he might listen.”

“Yeah, and Hell would also freeze over. Even if he wanted to offer his twisted version of help, I don’t _want_ to get it, okay?”

“Fine.” Ben sprawled out on the other bed, rubbing his eyes. He looked more exhausted than any living person Klaus had been around in ages, excluding maybe himself. “Diego, or Allison, then. Just talk to them. I’m sure this book is hurting them, too, you can all commiserate together. I’ll commiserate vicariously through you. It’ll be a blast.” 

Klaus ran his hand over the fabric of the bed. Some part of him desperately wanted his sibling’s help, or at least some cash. Okay, cash was very much on his mind right now. The other part of him, the part of him still nursing the loss of his job, home, boyfriend, dignity, potential shiny new life, didn’t want to see any of his family, save maybe Ben, for another decade. Good golly, money or pride; it was honestly a difficult decision.

To sum all that up, he shrugged noncommittally. Ben scoffed. 

“Fine, be that way,” he said. “Can we at least put on some tunes?” 

“Sure,” Klaus said, rifling through his box. “Any requeeeess _ohhhhhhhhmy_ fucking _God._ ” 

“What?” 

“He stole my CDs.”

“ _What_?!” 

“Stolen! Yoinked! All my CDs are _gone, Ben_ !” Klaus shuffled through the box again, then turned it over and shook it out, then looked under the bed. “Motherfucker, he stole _all_ of my CDs!” 

It was too much. He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He groaned, long and loud and guttural till his vocal cords ached with the strain because any other sound would lead into sobbing. Just peachy. Perfect. He has no home, no love interest, no job, no long-term sobriety, and now he has no _music_. His one go-to when things were especially rough, and now that’s gone, too. 

“Dick,” Ben muttered, his voice pulling Klaus’ head back up again. His arms were folded, and he was glaring into the wall. He, too, looked defeated, tired and hopeless, like he was about to cry. 

Something protective rose up in Klaus’ chest. Some older sibling energy he never knew he had, thanks to him being the least mature of them all. Seeing his little brother, regardless of the fact that they were all the same age, about to cry over his own life going to shit? It hurt. 

Klaus lowered his hands, took a deep breath, and fished a pair of yarn gloves from the box. 

“Alright,” he said. “Benny dear, you care for a bit of a heist?” 

“Pardon?” Ben asked, looking back to him. 

“'Lil B&E, 'lil burglary,” Klaus pulled them on with a theatrical flourish. “Maybe stop off for some late dinner afterward. What’re the kids saying these days? Be gay, do crimes?” 

Ben snorted. Not a derisive, “Klaus c’mon be serious” snort, but a genuine, ugly laugh kind of snort. Klaus grinned in victory. 

“Why not? What’s the worst that can happen, you go back to jail?” he said sarcastically. 

“There’s the spirit!” Klaus said. “We already tried being the heroes, it's time we let loose and put our criminal skills to the test! Maybe Diego will stop by and stop us, and we could all go for bagels or something after. His treat, of course, otherwise we wouldn’t be burglarizing. Come on, chop-chop, moonlight’s burning!” 

Ben followed him out. If he was even slightly not on board, he wouldn’t stop trying to convince Klaus out of it. But he must value his MCR over the law, his respect for the personal privacy of others, and whatever twisted morals their dad tried to have them learn. Besides, his boyfriend was way too obsessed with Ben’s death. Ben’s own, pretty stellar, morals were worn thin about the millionth time that he was brought up in a conversation in an attempt to garner some weird reaction from Klaus. 

It made Klaus proud. 

* * *

Speaking of pride, he was actually very proud of his plan. He would stop in while Derek was at work, getting a good eight hours of time to himself in his former apartment. 

Luckily, his dad thought it necessary to show them all how to pick locks at an early age. It made breaking in ridiculously easy. 

He swept through the apartment with a fine-toothed comb, picking up one of his old secondhand totes and then anything Derek missed and/or intentionally left behind. Half his clothes, still in the hamper, for starters. He grabbed a trash bag for those, as he wouldn’t have enough space in the tote. His nice leather jacket, also secondhand, that Derek always thought he looked dashing in. His old chiffon scarf, a lovely lavender that Derek adored in the Fall. His dangly earrings, which Derek would bat ever-so-coyly whenever he was feeling particularly frisky. His CD player and headphones, still on the nightstand. 

Finally, he got to the CD shelf.

Thankfully, Derek’s interests were squarely in Classic Rock, which made picking out his soul music and blues, and Ben’s Britpop and punk, easy. Unfortunately, he was also reminded of all those nights that Derek would make dinner, leaving on Johnny Cash in the background, as Klaus would just enjoy the view of him so at ease. He swallowed hard. 

“Do you remember,” Ben said slowly, clearly not in the same memory, eyes fixed on the shelf. “When he tried to grill you about dad’s training?”

Klaus snapped out of the nostalgia, methodically checking each jewel case to make sure all the CDs were accounted for. Danger Days was, for a terrifying moment, not present, but he quickly remembered that it was in the stereo. 

He and Ben turned to face it. Klaus gave his brother a wicked grin. “You know…”

“Klaus,” Ben warned.

“I think after all the horseshit we went through, it’s only fair.”

“I was kidding about jail, you know,” Ben said. It wasn’t exactly a no to the theft that Klaus was proposing.

“Psh, please,” Klaus started unhooking whatever wires were connected to the wall. “I helped buy this, anyway.”

“You pointed at it in an online catalogue and said ‘gimme.’” 

“And he never used it! It was a gift to me, in all but name!” Klaus hefted it in the crook of his arm, trying to find a way to both cradle it and carry his bags. “‘Sides, he won’t snitch.”

“How do you know that?”

Klaus turned to him, throwing his old scarf around his shoulders dramatically. “He’s got too much hero worship going on.”


End file.
